


Learn to Love Me

by iknowthatroad



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:24:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7941250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iknowthatroad/pseuds/iknowthatroad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Steve and Tony hate each other, and being in college doesn't help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learn to Love Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever! I have no idea if I'll ever finish it but I hope I do, since it's been an idea I've been toying with for four years. Please give me your feedback!

It started with Clint’s band playing a show at a club. 

Steve didn’t want to go. Clubs were never his thing, but he knew the great Clint Barton would never forgive him if he didn’t show up for at least part of the set. He decided to go in, maybe go talk to him at the end of his set, and then go back home. Somewhere in the process of that, though, he met Tony. Unfortunately. 

Tony was holding a boring old glass of water, eyeing Rhodey’s whiskey that sat just a few inches away. If he could just have one sip, experience the feeling of being just slightly buzzed one more time, he’d have the confidence to get up and do something with his life, but even that was a slippery slope, and it would probably end with him thinking about his father and that was not something he wanted to --

“Tony?”

Tony snapped his head up to look back at Rhodey, and he could immediately tell Rhodey was annoyed. His eyes gave away concern hidden by his almost military posture, something he never lost even when he was shit-faced. Not that he was right now, though. 

“What?” Tony asked innocently. 

Rhodey picked up the whiskey glass, and before he realized what he was doing Tony instinctively followed it with his eyes. “Come on, Tony,” Rhodey said. “I thought you were past this. Is it being at a bar? Because we can leave if --”

“Stop,” Tony cut him off. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. We’re here for Carol, anyways, and we haven’t even seen her.” Before Rhodey could reply, Tony stood up on his barstool and scanned the room. “Carol Danvers, you’re needed at the bar!” he screamed. 

Rhodey smacked Tony in the knees, and he almost tumbled to the floor. “She’s not here yet,” he said to Tony as he scrambled back into his seat. Rhodey pulled out his phone and showed Tony a text from Carol. “She’s five minutes away.” 

Tony smirked and sipped his water, pretending not to notice that virtually everyone in the bar was now staring at him, probably because he just screamed at the top of his lungs while standing on a barstool. He was about to look back at Rhodey when someone in particular caught his eye. The guy was tall, blonde, and ridiculously toned. Almost as-if-he-weren’t-human-level toned. Definitely not Tony’s type. 

And yet… he was looking directly at Tony, long after everyone else had gotten distracted by some band playing on the stage. 

Tony grabbed Rhodey’s arm, then nodded in the guy’s direction. “Rhodey, Who is that?” 

Rhodey shrugged. “He looks vaguely familiar. I think he was in one of Carol’s classes last semester. He’s got some generic white dude name, like…” He paused for a second, and Tony looked back at Generic White Dude Name. He’d diverted his attention away from Tony and was now watching the band performing a shitty Zeppelin cover. Tony suddenly felt weirdly jealous of the band for being more interesting than him. How dare they. 

“Tony,” Rhodey said sternly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m with you,” Tony replied without looking back in his direction. “Did you remember his name yet?” 

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “I think it’s Rogers.” 

“First or last name?”

“What kind of first name is Rogers? And why don’t you ask him yourself?” Rhodey asked, resignedly throwing his hands up in the air. 

“Good idea,” Tony fired back. “Will you, um, watch my water?” 

Rhodey grabbed Tony’s arm just as he was about to walk away. “Tony, what are you doing?”

“What, are you gonna make me waste my top-notch flirting skills by not going up to this perfectly attractive dude and fucking him by the end of the night?” Tony smiled and turned back to Rhodey, expecting him to be rolling his eyes or acting exasperated in some way. Instead, he looked Tony straight in the eyes, his expression steely and concerned. “Be careful, please. Don’t you dare let him buy you a drink.” 

Tony scoffed, but he knew Rhodey was looking out for him, just like he always had. “Of course not.” 

Rhodey relaxed a little and smiled. “Go get him. And, please, for the love of God, don’t tell me every detail like you always do.” 

“I’ll take extensive notes on everything he says and does, just because you said that.” Tony retorted, unable to wipe the shit-eating grin off of his face as he stood up and approached the Rogers guy. 

“Tony, wait. You’re driving me home today,” Rhodey called out. Tony turned around, walking backwards and maintaining eye contact with Rhodey.

“Have your girlfriend do it,” Tony fired back. 

“She’s gonna drink too.” 

“Use my Uber account. You know the login information.” 

By this time Tony was too far away to hear Rhodey’s reply. He took a second to collect his thoughts before he was close enough for Rogers to notice he was there, deciding which of his default charmers would work best on him. 

“Carol’s an old friend of mine,” Rogers said before Tony could even launch into full-flirt mode. 

“What?” Tony said, still taken aback by the fact that he hadn’t spoken first. 

“We both go to Harvard.” Rogers replied, turning to face him now. Tony got a little closer to him, unashamedly taking him in from head to toe. His tan leather jacket, gray v-neck shirt, and blue jeans were surprisingly flattering, all things considered. His not-quite-blonde hair was almost perfectly in place, framing an innocent but still intriguing-looking face. Tony’s eyes fixated on his lips. 

“Steve.” 

For the first time in a long time, Tony almost forgot his own name. “T-Tony,” he managed to reply. Steve flashed a smile at Tony, then looked back at the band on stage. 

“They’re pretty horrible, huh?” Steve said. 

Tony let out a small laugh. “I’ve heard worse. Probably.” They stood together, listening to the music. The lead singer seemed way more excited to be playing an 11 pm slot at a venue of about 100 people than anyone should have been.

“Lead singer’s name is Clint. He’s a friend.” Steve seemed to be reading Tony’s mind or something, since he kept answering questions Tony was seconds away from asking. “He’s actually the only reason I’m here tonight. I hate drinking.”

Tony looked at Steve, eyeing his profile a little too closely. “Yeah, I’ve had enough alcohol for a lifetime,” Tony replied. 

Steve turned his eyes away from the stage and back to Tony. “You don’t drink either?” 

“Used to, had a few million bad experiences here and there, now it’s all behind me. Ever since I was really young, I’ve had —” He looked back at the stage, confused and shocked at how easy he found it to talk to this guy. What was it? The eyes?

“Had what?” Steve asked gently. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony replied. “This band really sucks.”

“Yeah, they really do. But they’re working on it. They used to be way worse.” 

Tony pulled out his phone to check the time, even though his Rolex was oh-so-obviously sitting on his wrist. He knew this was the wrong tactic to use on a guy like Steve Rogers, whose outfit and conversation style seemed to indicate he was, well, attending Harvard on a scholarship. Something about Steve said his reaction would be worth the potential striking out, though. 

“Wow,” Steve muttered dryly as he now got a closer look at Tony’s watch, his phone, his everything that screamed “rich kid, asshole.” Tony just smirked. 

“You’re some stupidly rich kid, aren’t you?” The lights blared bright in their faces, and they both recoiled for a second. When the lights went back down, Steve’s gaze turned from calculating to cold. “Tony. Tony Stark?” 

Tony knew that tone. The way Steve’s voice scathingly said the word “Stark” meant he knew what his father’s company did. “In the flesh,” Tony said, his voice dripping with something between impatience and smugness. 

“Your dad’s a weapons manufacturer.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know.” 

“Okay, are you aware that your father’s company —“

“Stop,” Tony fired back. “I’m all too aware of what my father’s company does, and trust me, if I could get away from him, I would.”

“Him, or it?”

Tony froze, realizing what he’d said. To a stranger, nonetheless. A stranger he wanted to bone. 

“Both, I guess.” He took in a breath, and put his flirtatious guard back up. “But, daddy issues aside, I think you’re very attractive.” 

Steve laughed nervously. Was Tony Stark really hitting on him, while also talking about his apparent daddy issues? “Is that a joke?

“Hell no,” Tony replied. “Do you wanna get out of here?” 

Steve stared at Tony, genuinely shocked at how forward he was suddenly being, and even more shocked at the fact that it was working. He wasn’t gonna fight it. “Clint’s gotta see me, and then we’re leaving,” he said sternly.

“That’s no problem,” Tony replied. “You remember the whole stand-on-a-barstool-and-call-for-someone-who’s-not-even-here schtick I just did? There’s more where that came from.” 

Just as he said that, the band finished the song they were playing, and the crowd began the obligatory applause. Tony prepared to yell “CLINT!” at the top of his lungs, then obnoxiously gesture towards Steve, but was cut short by Steve’s hands on his waist. Tony’s breath hitched, and he froze. 

“Hold on, their set just ended. I’m gonna go say hi. Come if you want.” And just like that, he took off. Tony quickly looked back at Rhodey, who was too occupied with making out with Carol to notice him. Typical.

When he looked back, Steve was already right by the stage, giving Clint a quick hug and engaging in what seemed like friendly conversation. Before he could stop himself, Tony was making his way over. 

“…this sure beats anything I did at Boston U. What a waste of money,” Clint was saying as Tony got within earshot. He stopped just a few steps behind Steve. 

“Whatever works for you,” Steve replied, his voice soft and welcoming. “Hey, this is Tony.” On hearing his name, Tony stepped forward. 

“Tony, huh? As in Tony St—“ 

“Yeah,” Tony replied. He knew he felt strongly about this Clint kid, but he couldn’t tell if it was a good kind of strong or not. 

“Clint Barton.” He shook Tony’s hand. “How do you know Steve?” 

“I don’t,” Tony said with ease, his flirting coming back to him now. “I’m about to, though.” Clint laughed, and Tony grinned as he noticed Steve’s cheeks turning bright red. 

“It was nice to see you, Clint,” Steve said, barely getting the words out. Steve’s hand suddenly started trailing down Tony’s back and settled just above his waistband, and Tony’s smirk disappeared instantly. 

“You too, Steve,” Clint replied, fully aware of what Steve had just done but neglecting to bring it up. “Now get out of my sight, because I can tell you’re two seconds away from making out and that’s not something I need to see right now.” 

Tony turned red this time, and Steve bowed his head. “Come on,” he whispered just loud enough for Tony to hear above the music now blaring on the club’s PA system. “Let’s dance.” 

Steve grabbed Tony’s hand and led him towards a group of people neither of them recognized, and they danced. For what felt like hours, all they did was grind against each other, separated only by layers of clothing. 

“You really can’t dance, can you?” Steve breathed into Tony’s ear in between songs, his hands on the small of Tony’s back.

“Fuck you,” Tony replied. 

The next songs came and went, and the two got closer and closer together. Before they knew it, their lips were barely an inch away from each other. 

“You ready?” Tony asked, barely audible above the noise of the club even to Steve. Steve nodded, and closed the gap between them. They kissed fiercely, as if they’d been waiting to do this for years. The entire rest of the room disappeared as Tony eased his tongue into Steve’s mouth, his breath slow and steady. This is what he came for, the senseless feeling of making out with someone he’d probably never see again, bodies pressed together and hands traveling aimlessly up and down backs. Steve matched every one of Tony’s movements, and the chemistry between them was almost surprising to both of them. 

They broke apart, and Steve’s gaze focused on a spot just above Tony’s lips. “Come with me,” he said. He grabbed Tony’s hand and pulled him towards the back of the club, where the restrooms were. 

“Really?” Tony asked. “You’re not even gonna wine and dine me first?”

Steve stopped for a second and turned around to look at Tony, feigning annoyance but actually finding Tony’s stupid humor kind of, well, funny. “Is that really what you want, or do you want to fuck me?”

“Actually, I was hoping you’d fuck me,” Tony replied, his voice having dropped an octave since they left the dance floor. He pushed Steve into a bathroom stall, locking the door behind them, and immediately started fiddling with his belt. Muffled music blared in the background as Tony yanked Steve’s jeans to the ground, and Steve let out a moan as soon as Tony started palming him through his boxers. 

Tony got up from the floor and pulled Steve close, one hand awkwardly positioned over Steve’s boxers and the other on his neck. He was about to kiss Steve when Steve yanked his head back and bit his neck, causing Tony to let out a guttural noise in pleasure. Tony was fully pressed against the bathroom stall door, and the limited amount of space they had only added to the tension. In response to Steve’s teeth against his neck, Tony spit into his hand and shoved it into Steve’s boxers, grabbing his half-hard dick. Steve let out a moan followed by a breathless laugh. 

“What’s funny, Rogers?”

Steve froze. “Call me Rogers again,” he breathed. 

Tony’s expression hardened. “Really,” Tony said rather than asked. Steve just nodded, leaning into Tony’s hand on his cock. 

“Whatever you say, Rogers.” Steve smiled and rolled his head back, staring at the ceiling as Tony got back on his knees. 

Tony dragged his hand up and down Steve’s length, deliberately going slow to torture him. “Come on,” Steve said, almost inaudibly, from somewhere above Tony’s head. 

“We’ve got time,” Tony said with a smile he knew Steve wouldn’t see. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off of the ceiling. It was more for himself, anyways. 

“This would be a lot easier if you sat down on the toilet,” Tony said, only half-joking. Steve just laughed and put a hand to the back of Tony’s neck, pushing him closer. Tony took a deep breath, then put his mouth on just the tip. Steve immediately moaned. 

Tony stopped for a second. “Has anyone ever told you you moan a lot?” Tony asked, before going back to what he was doing. 

”If it’s a problem, I can finish myself off,” Steve retorted. 

“Please, “ Tony replied. “You’d regret —“

“Shut up,” Steve said, shoving Tony’s head closer to his crotch again. “Has anyone ever told you you talk a lot?” 

Tony ignored him, focusing on the task at hand. He looked up at Steve, who was now finally looking back down at him, as he rubbed his hand up and down Steve’s dick and sucked on his balls. They continued like this for a few minutes, Steve getting harder and harder with everything Tony did. 

“You’ve most definitely done this before,” Steve decided. Tony’s nod was barely perceptible as a response, since it went along so fluidly with the rhythm Tony had already gotten himself into. 

Tony felt himself getting hard as he listened to Steve’s moans gradually get louder and less controlled. “If you don’t stop I’m gonna come right now,” Steve managed to get out. Just hearing that send blood straight down to Tony’s dick, and he understood the feeling. 

“These stalls are way smaller than I had hoped they’d be,” Steve remarked. “I mean, I’ve been here before, but—“

Tony clamored back onto his feet and shut Steve up with a messy kiss to the side of his mouth. “We’ll make it work.” With that, Tony ripped Steve’s jacket and shirt off, and Steve rushed to undo Tony’s belt as Tony ripped his own shirt off. After clumsily bumping into each other more times and in more ways than they’d ever admit later, Steve turned Tony around and slammed him into the stall door. 

“”Rough, aren’t we?” 

“You like it,” Steve whispered into Tony’s ear, his voice deep and almost animalistic. Tony was suddenly speechless, offering a slight nod as response. 

“Shit, wait,” Steve stopped for a second. “Do you have a condom?” 

“Jacket pocket,” Tony replied with ease. Steve almost laughed at Tony’s readiness. 

“You came here with a plan, didn’t you?” 

“”Not really. I’m just always prepared.”

Steve let himself laugh this time as he bent down to Tony’s jacket and ripped the condom out of the packet, slowly sliding it onto himself. 

“Start slow,” Tony breathed. Steve nodded, sliding a finger into Tony’s hole. Tony immediately gasped, leaning into Steve. Steve moved slowly, like Tony asked, slid another finger in. Tony groaned deeply, enjoyed the slight but perceptible shift in Steve’s movements as a response. They worked in a rhythm, bodies moving together in sync. 

“Now,” Tony commanded, his voice even deeper than before, and Steve felt it go straight to his increasingly hard boner. He slowly pulled his fingers out of Tony and started sliding his dick in. Tony let out a slight gasp at the change, but quickly felt pleasure spread throughout his entire body. Steve gripped his chest, shoving him harder against the bathroom door. Their pace quickened, and they let out more and more uncontrolled noises, ignoring the sounds of people coming in and out of other stalls. Everything else disappeared; all that mattered was the two of them. 

Steve’s breath was quick and heavy and hot against Tony’s neck, and every rush of air sent him closer and closer to the edge. 

“I’m — I’m almost —“ 

“Yeah,” Steve replied, his pace quickening. “I —“ Steve let out a loud groan as he came, pushing himself as far as he could into Tony as a feeling of satisfaction and warmth physically overcame him. He clawed at Tony’s back as he felt the condom he was wearing get heavier and heavier around his dick. He pulled out and stumbled backwards over the toilet they’d both forgotten was in the stall. Tony turned around just in time to witness it and let out a laugh without thinking about it. 

“Shut up,” Steve said breathlessly, as he took off the now used condom and threw it in the trash can in the stall.

“I’m still —“ Before Tony could continue, Steve was on his knees and Tony’s cock was in his mouth. Tony almost made a quip about Steve being quite the gentleman before all ability he had to speak was consumed by his orgasm, and he threw his head up to the ceiling, banging it against the stall door in the process. He let out a scream as Steve swallowed down every drop of Tony’s come, something Tony definitely did not expect him to do. 

“Wow,” Tony whispered. 

“Yeah.” Steve picked up Tony’s jacket and belt off the floor, and got up to hand them to him. Tony grabbed the belt and put it on while Steve held the jacket in one arm and redid his own belt with his free hand. 

Once he had his jacket on, Tony pushed the stall door open and stepped out, followed closely by Steve. 

“Well, this part’s awkward,” Steve said as they walked back into the club.

“Only if you make it awkward,” said Tony.

“You’re really quite a charmer,” Steve admitted without thinking about it. Tony just smiled. 

“Did you get that from Howard?” 

And maybe it was the fact that this was the second time Steve had mentioned his dad, or the fact that this was the first time he’d had casual sex in a while, or the fact that he really just wanted to get drunk tonight, but hearing the word “Howard” was Tony’s breaking point. 

“Fuck off,” Tony muttered, assuming Steve couldn’t hear him.

“What?”

“Yes,” Tony answered Steve’s original question. When Steve realized Tony’s gaze had turned serious and devoid of any tongue-in-cheek humor he’d relied on so heavily before, he chose not to press the issue. 

“I gotta go,” Tony suddenly said. “This was, uh…” He paused for a second, turning back to Steve to give him a dismissive smile. “This was fun.”

And just like that, he’d disappeared into the crowd. That was weird, Steve thought to himself. He didn’t quite see Tony as the type to break away from a conversation (or anything) so quickly, even if said conversation was a little weird. He looked over the crowd, trying to see if he could spot Clint and maybe get a few more words in before going back home. He eventually saw him still by the stage, sweeping up the floor for some reason. 

“So why are you using a broom in the middle of a club?” Steve asked Clint after navigating through the crowd to where he was. 

Clint shrugged. “Just felt like helping out, I guess.” Steve nodded; he was too used to Clint’s spontaneous chivalry to be surprised. 

_________

Tony felt his heart racing and his heart jumping in and out of his chest as he pushed past everyone he could see to get to the club doors. A part of his brain told him to calm down, but the rest of him was too busy panicking to do anything other than move, move, move. He heard Rhodey somewhere far away, calling his name, but he couldn’t reply. He couldn’t breathe, all of a sudden, and he felt himself falling to his knees, his vision coming in and out. 

When Tony could finally breathe again, Rhodey was sitting across from him, glass of water in hand. He had that expression on his face, the one of a concerned best friend who was beginning to lose hope that there was anything he could do to change what was happening. Carol sat right behind him, head hovering above Rhodey’s shoulder and plastered with a similar face. 

“I’m fine,” Tony got out before anyone even asked. He started to get to his feet, but Rhodey placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. 

“Rest,” he said. Tony didn’t fight it. Instead, he looked around to see where he’d ended up after, well, having that thing he refused to put a name to. It was dark, and they were outside, and muffled music played somewhere behind him. He guessed he’d managed to get out of the club and collapse a few feet out the door. 

“What was it this time?” Rhodey asked patiently. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Tony stood up, pushing Rhodey’s hand off his shoulder, and started walking towards the nearby parking garage where his car was parked. “Are you two coming or getting an Uber?” he shouted behind him, not slowing down. He knew Rhodey and Carol were too drunk to drive themselves home, and he had already said he was going to drive them home, random mini heart attacks be damned. 

He really wished he could have had a drink right then.


End file.
